In His Eyes
by Mattiewilda
Summary: His son represented everything he'd ever wanted and everything he was terrified of becoming.


_Yes, me with another story because apparently I don't have enough to do, lol. This was originally going to be done in the same universe at Where You Least Expect It, Good Things Come, etc,. But something wasn't working for me so I decided to re-edit and rework it a little and make it independent of all my other stories. I think I'm happy with how it turned out._

_I do not name Shawn's wife. Partly because her identity isn't pertinent to the story and also because this way readers can imagine whomever they want. Whether it's Shawn/Angela, Shawn/Katy, or going back further into BMW with Dana, Libby, or Jennifer. Or none of the above and someone new! Have at it._

_I hope you all enjoy. :-)_

* * *

"It's okay, buddy," Shawn soothed. He set the bottle on the dresser before he cautiously lifted his son from the crib and up to his shoulder. The baby was three months old as of Friday, yet the new father couldn't help but handle him as though he was made of glass. His wife gently teased him about it and constantly reassured him that their little guy wouldn't break. _'Teddy's strong like his daddy,'_ she loved to say.

He still wasn't crazy about the nickname. It had taken them months to agree on a name for a boy and even then Shawn only relented on Theodore because he loved the meaning. They said he would be called Theo. Then they were in a hospital room holding a little baby and she remarked that he seemed more like a Teddy than a Theo. He didn't agree and vowed to still use their chosen nickname. Of course more often than not he caught himself using Teddy as well. Secretly he hoped the kid would voice a preference for Theo the moment he could speak. Until then he'd give his wife Teddy.

"Do you want your bottle, huh?" He took a seat in the rocker and winced at the particularly shrill pitch of the cries. "Shh, you're blowing my game plan of letting your mom get some rest since taking care of you is exhausting- no offense. I'm not always a thrill for her either so you come by it honestly." The crying continued. "Don't get me wrong, son, years of therapy has helped me to see that men can cry, but those soprano notes are a little over the top. Unless of course you're planning a career in the opera, but even then I think they reserve those notes for the fat lady at the end." He held the bottle up to his son's quivering lips and was relieved when he took to the food immediately. "See, the old man knows what he's doing every once in a while."

He smiled when Teddy's eyes locked on his. This kid was already a master at staring contests and most of the time Shawn found it comforting. He knew it meant his son was trying to figure him out. On his bad days he worried about transferring his negative thoughts and energy, so he avoided the treasured contact. That, of course, upset the baby and made him cry, thus making Shawn feel like a bad parent. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy and one of the many negative cycles he tried not to get caught up in. It was complicated. His son represented everything he'd ever wanted and everything he was terrified of becoming. That was a heavy burden to put on a baby.

Right now Teddy looked at him with such trust and love. His mere presence made the boy happy. Shawn would give anything for that to always be the case. His worst nightmare was to one day see Teddy look at him the way he'd looked at Chet. Just the thought of those eyes filled with disappointment and shame was enough to make him hyperventilate. While memories of the elder Hunter would always conjure up a certain level of familial love, that love was tempered with anger and regret. Shawn had long since realized that what he missed most about his father was the father he could've been. Chet's life was best summed up in broken promises and untapped potential. Those broken promises caused Shawn to seek outside father figures. He saw them in his son's eyes, too, from Alan to Turner to Mr. Feeny. The truth was he felt like he could see everything in his son - his past, their present, and their future. He could see it all. It humbled him every time.

He hoped becoming a father would help him understand Chet better, that he'd be able to make sense of all the choices the man made. If anything the opposite occurred. Shawn couldn't imagine willingly separating yourself from your child. Still, part of him was glad Chet became an even bigger enigma. What if understanding his father's decisions made him more likely to choose the same fate? Nothing scared him more than turning into Chet.

Luckily his wife was here to talk him down from the bad spots and reassure him. He'd never be able to do this without her and was hyper aware of how close he came to having to do it alone- no matter how much she tried to deny it and tell him otherwise.

Theodore Hunter did not make a calm entrance into this world. What started as a seemingly routine labor quickly took a turn and before Shawn could process what was happening, he had strict instructions to remain seated by his wife's head during the Caesarean. He barely got the chance to tell her they had a son before the monitors went haywire and he was forcibly removed from the OR. They quickly ushered him into a smaller observation room where a doctor and nurse were examining the baby who was only seconds old and screaming his head off. They eventually declared the boy healthy and thrust him into his father's arms for bonding- though the task seemed impossible at the time. To this day he felt guilty for the fleeting moments in that nursery where he blamed the pregnancy, the birth...even Teddy, for the predicament. Those weren't the thoughts one was supposed to have upon meeting their child for the first time. Then she was okay and things were all right, but still not perfect. They'd never have those first moments with Teddy back. He felt robbed.

It was a conversation with Alan that made him feel better…well, maybe better was a stretch, but he was able to more easily live with it. Alan said eventually the joy of having Teddy would surpass the terror of his birth. It would take time, perhaps years, but it would happen. That was how Josh's birth was for him and he just knew it would be the same for Shawn. It would just take time.

"He's never going to burp if you keep doing it like that."

Shawn smiled when he saw her standing in the doorway. He figured it wouldn't be long once the baby started to fuss. "Sorry, I tried to keep him quiet so you'd get to sleep, but-"

"You need to put a little _oomph_ into your pats." She demonstrated and within seconds was rewarded with two belches. "See, firm yet gentle." She typically didn't jump in with corrections and let Shawn try to figure things out for himself and he did the same for her, but when Teddy didn't burp he made himself sick.

"He's still so little. I don't want to hurt him."

She pulled the footstool over and sat in front of her husband. "Burping isn't hitting or being abusive." He didn't look her in the eye. "Teddy knows you love him."

"You think?" And suddenly a tiny hand wrapped itself around his thumb and his vision was blurred with tears.

She leaned over and kissed the baby's forehead. "Good job, kid. Let daddy know when he's being ridiculous." She was doing all she could to treasure these moments. Once they were gone, that was it. No matter how many times she or the doctor told Shawn the chances of repeat complications in future pregnancies were small, he was adamantly against more children. They called a truce and agreed to wait a year or two before they broached the topic again and made any final decisions. They needed more than a few months between them and the trauma to have a rational discussion. Deep down though she knew he would never budge. Teddy would be their only child. Shawn had already lost too much in his life and neither one of them were willing to risk adding a wife to that list.

"You okay," he asked. She'd been quiet for a while.

She cleared her throat. "I was just marveling at how much he is your clone. I spent all those months pregnant and had to give birth and popped out a carbon copy of you. You'd think after all that he'd look like me even a little."

"He has your eyes."

"And everything else is you. It's not fair."

"You don't think he's going to be just like me, do you?" He glanced down. Teddy was nearly asleep. "Because _that _wouldn't be fair."

"He's going to be brave and resilient and sweet and kind."

"So like you?"

"Like us."

"And he won't grow up feeling unloved, unwanted."

"No child will ever be more loved." They had variations of this conversation often. "We'll make sure of it."

His wished this was the last time he'd need this pep talk, but he knew better. His inner demons would never disappear completely. "Why don't you go back to bed? I'll put him in his crib and hopefully we'll all be able to sleep for a few hours."

"You sure you're okay?"

Shawn nodded. "I'm good."

"Okay." She ran a finger over her son's cheek and pressed a gentle kiss on her husband's lips. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he whispered with a smile as he watched her leave the nursery. He didn't know what he did to deserve her. In fact, he was fairly certain he didn't, but he was forever grateful he got to share his life with such an amazing woman.

After a few more minutes of rocking, Shawn approached the crib. He held the baby close as he leaned over the crib, not wanting their separation to be drastic enough to wake him. He deposited the baby in his bed and held his breath when those eyes opened and he fixed his gaze on him. "It's okay. Go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up." He brushed a soft kiss to the top of Teddy's head, relaxing when his eyes fluttered shut again. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."


End file.
